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Stuck by a Drummer- The Adventure Continues
I should have captured the moment, I know. I should have said, "I'm staying in his room because I MIGHT be expecting his baby, we have sex every chance we get, and even include other people when they walk in on us." But in a huge city like London, who knew how long it would take for paramedics to reach the hotel... for her or me. So instead I responded, "Steve, Lynne, and Pete are old friends of mine from way back." "That's right," Pete chimed in, acting on his male/female/whatever intuition. "KC's a reporter back in America, and she's come to interview us. Hotel fucked up her reservation so she's going to share one of the beds in our room with Lynne until it's sorted out." The darkhaired woman's breath expelled slowly, and her lashes fluttered in the most dramatic gesture of relief that I had ever seen. "Oh... so it's only an INTERVIEW." She stepped back from him and extended a bejeweled hand to me. "Brenda Leigh. I host the news for VH1 UK." "KC Payden." I returned the shake. Her palm felt oily, and left a strong coconut scent on my own skin. "I write for DISK DRIVE." She turned away, having no further interest in me at that point, and let her fingers encircle Steve's wrist. "So.... how about going to the Tripolis Club opening tonight? VH1 is hosting it and I have tickets." Before Steve could answer, a pager noise blasted the air. Brenda, frustration drawing her exotic features into childlike pout, reached into her Louis Vuitton handbag and drew out the screeching object. She stared at the screen and gave a cry of annoyance. "Oh, God damn it! It's the studio! What the hell? Hold on." She fished a cell phone out of the same purse and strode several paces away as she dialed. While we watched her whisper into the receiver, Pete said, "I think you'd better go, Stig. We can't afford to lose the publicity she gets us." "I know, but...." Steve's gaze met mine and he stopped. "It's all right," I said quietly, unhappy but understanding. "You have to do what you have to do." He nodded, looking unhappier than ever. Brenda rejoined us, the very image of a woman pissed off. "Baby, I have to go," she complained. "Madonna arrived in the studio two hours early, her manager says it can't be helped, she has more pressing engagements taking place when we were originally supposed to interview her." "You'd better go then," Pete offered. "If the engagement is at a Harley Street surgery, you might be interfering with Madge's latest reincarnation." "Yeah, probably." She stood motionless for a split second, her adoring gaze locked with Steve's. Then she pounced onto her arrow-sharp boot toes, threw her arms around his neck, and kissed him like she was trying to devour his face. "I love you, baby," she cooed when they parted, and then paused, waiting for a response. "Yeah... yeah. You too, Babe." Happy now, Brenda hustled out of the hotel, waving her arms like a windmill once she was out on the sidewalk. She got into a cab that pulled up in response to her signal and disappeared. Pete slid up behind Steve and I and put an arm around both of us. "Let's get out of here before someone else recognizes us." That was the best piece of advice I'd gotten since "bring your own condoms." The three of us made for the elevator as quickly as we could without looking like we were running for our lives. But maybe we should have run faster, because a high voice assailed us. "PETE! STEVE! Is that you? I need to talk to you- Rose just kicked me off of your forum!!" More soon, folks!!
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